June 3, 2008

Of Hockey and Karma

When I was in high school, I dated this total tool of a guy for a year. He went to a different high school, was two years older than I was, lied to me about graduating when he didn’t actually graduate, gave me a leather jacket for Christmas that had a cigarette burn on the sleeve, and cheated on me with some girl he called "Kissy." It wasn’t exactly a time in my life where I was oozing with self-esteem.

I did, however, dump him, which I consider one of my finest accomplishments. We won’t discuss that I got back together with him for a few weeks a couple summers later (also dumping him then), because I said so. Also because, if my Mom reads this she’ll relive those unfortunate days and possibly have a stroke or something.

Our summer dates were spent cruising the town in his Dodge Daytona, listening to the Fresh Prince sing "Summertime." Our winter dates consisted of watching hockey. He was a Detroit Red Wings fan. I should have known he was a loser the second he told me. My Dad certainly knew it and shared this fact with me, but I think my brain was damaged from one too many spiral perms. I had to find out for myself, and I certainly did.

I remember in vivid detail how I dumped his butt while he stood on my front porch with teary eyes. My best friend was standing behind the door enjoying every second of me telling him off. When I tossed his soccer jacket at him and shut the door, my friend and I celebrated by dancing on the coffee table to "Hate Everything About You." I’m sure my Mom wasn’t happy about the footprints we left on the table, but she never said anything because she was so relieved that I had finally gotten rid of him. I was so relieved that I wouldn’t have to hear anything else about how awesome Steve Yzerman was. He had this super annoying way of pronouncing "Yzerman" and would get in my face and say it over and over again. How I wanted that player to get his butt kicked, just to make my stupid boyfriend shut-up.

Last night, as I watched the Penguins defeat the Red Wings in a triple overtime event, I had this burning desire to call him up, and just gloat a bit. It was kind of like the battle of the past and present. The past-my icky boyfriend of days gone by versus the present-my super nice husband who loves the Pens.

Here’s hoping the "present" continues to win. How I’d love to see him and gloat, just a tiny bit. Sometimes karma takes a really long time to make things right. Go PENS!